by Alleine--

When a man is converted, he is forever at enmity
with sin; yes, with all sin, but most of all with his
own sins, and especially with his bosom sin.

Sin is now the object of his indignation.
His sin swells his sorrows.
It is sin that pierces him and wounds him;
he feels it like a thorn in his side,
like a prick in his eyes.

He groans and struggles under it, and not formally,
but feelingly cries out, "O wretched man!"

He is not impatient of any burden so much as of his sin....

Before conversion he had light thoughts of sin.
He cherished it in his bosom, as Uriah his lamb;
he nourished it up, and it grew up together with him;
it did eat, as it were, of his own food and
drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom,
and was to him as a daughter.

But when God opens his eyes by conversion,
he throws it away with abhorrence,
as a man would a loathsome toad,
which in the dark he had hugged fast in his bosom,
and thought it had been some pretty and harmless bird.